Happy Days are Here Again
by Wingless Swan
Summary: Kurt Hummel's mask has shattered. the atmosphere of the room is too joyful, but his world is crumbling. During Santana's rant, he flashes back to his years of loneliness and begins to panic. The hand that brings him back to life is the most unexpected...but the most reassuring. Kurtbastian. Prepare to drown in tears. I'm feeling emotional. There will be triggers in the chapters.
1. Forget Your Troubles

Okay, so I'm late to the Glee scene, Santana's rant was my calling to spit some mean fanfiction.

1) This is Kurtbastian and it's not very Blaine or Klaine friendly. 2) Instead of in the damn school hallway, Santana's rant happened at a party she threw for Brittany,where she proposed. I added my twist on things.

I do not own Glee, I believe it belongs to Chris Colfer...I mean Ryan Murphy. Kurt would've been the most successful one to come out of that shitty school, if Glee belonged to me.

-gLee-

He'd told Rachel the truth, but not the whole truth. There are some things that you should probably refrain from telling your withering diva of a best friend, who had just lost **everything** , even though it felt as if _he_ himself were losing everything. It was more than just Santana's unexpected proposal. It was also the harsh reality that he was becoming absolutely _nothing._ It was the fact that he constantly worried about losing his father after Finn's death. It was the fact that he practically had no choice but to accept Blaine's over-the-top marriage proposal to avoid gaining "asshole status" among his group of friends, who still held him at an arm's length. It was the fact that his ex, who had saved him (or pretty much gave him terrible advice, forcing him to be borderline sexually assaulted, forcing him to save himself), is now dating the man that is still in many ways the epitome of his post-traumatic stress disorder. It was the fact that he would go back to his old home, when in Lima, and lock himself in his old room, drowning in memories that made him anxious, depressed, or both. It was getting harder and harder to peel himself out of bed, or off the couch, or out of his own damn mind. Kurt Hummel was becoming weak. He had promised himself after being stuffed in a hot locker overnight, by Karofsky, the man who seemingly still had it out for him, that he would no longer let them see him sweat. He was on the verge of breaking that promise.

He didn't mean to sound bitter. He even told Rachel and Finn that they were too young for marriage. They didn't flip out on him like Santana was. " _Maybe Brittany and I are too young to get married. I mean, after all, that's why it didn't work out with you and Blaine,right? Or maybe it didn't work out because you're a judgmental little gerontophile with a mouth like cat's ass. Maybe Blaine got tired of hearing your shrill self-aggrandizing lecture about how you felt the two of you were at the very apex of the gay rights movement every time you so much as cooked macaroni and cheese together, or farted. Maybe Blaine didn't wanna be with someone who looks like they just removed their top row of dentures every time they smile, or someone who doesn't dress like an extra out of one of Andy Dick's more elaborate wet dreams._

Boom. There it is. It wasn't Santana's usual "tough love" bark. This was a bloody, skin-ripping bite. It was in no way a "you need to be better" rant; it was an "I don't like who you are rant" and boy was this bitch one to talk. Basically everything that everyone- probably even his father and Rachel were too afraid to tell him, because he could verbally slash their tires. Santana was going full force on behalf of Blaine, who had become a menace to what little of a relationship they had left. Hot stuff Blaine Anderson was once again the center of attention. Santana didn't even know the details of the break-up, because who the hell would go to her for comfort? The pang that hit him gave him sick feeling in his gut and he could feel his face heating.

It was a gathering that was supposed to bring everyone together, even David freaking Karofsky and Sebastian god damned Smythe, apparently. Once he pulled himself out of his thoughtful fog, he could see the faces of his friends. The majority of them looked unsympathetic and some even amused. Was Blaine even going to speak for himself? Maybe just to defend Kurt, who has _always_ defended him? Was he supposed to give in?

 _Maybe he grew weary of dating a breathier more feminine Quinn Fabray. Maybe he finally got freaked out by your strange obsession with old people that causes you to skulk around nursing homes like one of those cats that can smell cancer. Maybe he got tired of watching you drape yourself on every piano you happen past to entertain exactly no one with. Say some song that Judy Garland choked on her tongue in the middle of, or some sassy old Broadway standard made famous by dead alcoholic crump. Maybe Blaine woke up one day and said, 'You know what, I don't wanna marry a sexless self-centered baton-twirler. Maybe I need someone who knows more than three dance moves:' the finger wag, the shoulder shimmy, and the one where you pretend to twirl to invisible rainbow-colored ribbons attached to your hips, so you know what, maybe that's why it didn't work out, maybe it has nothing to do with me and Brittany, maybe it's just that you are utterly, utterly, intolerable. Maybe that has something to do with it."_

He was paralysed. What was he supposed to say? He was used to being the one at fault when it came to these things, but was he really going to apologize?

"Santana, what are you even talking about? What's your angle, because i'm pretty sure that this was supposed to be about me not being excited for you and Brittany's doomed marriage, not about why you dislike me; not that I care, because every night, I go home and forget that you exist." Kurt said as calmly as possible.

Everyone was still staring at him; the eyes of one Sebastian Smythe burning a hole into the back of his head. He hadn't meant to add the snark, but this whole situation was causing him to put up those walls that Blaine bitched about on an hourly basis.

His arms were folded and his hip was jutted out, but his bitch-face was replaced by the new blank expression that he's taken up, to keep people from even thinking that he wasn't okay.

"Okay, Hummel, this is why I didn't want to invite you. Take a look around and notice that you're the only single person in Berry's depressing basement, while the man that you're so _desperate_ for is here with the guy who eats chili cheese coneys for breakfast and who once made slamming your scrawny little ballerina-reject body into lockers his favorite pass time. If that doesn't say enough, then maybe you should just go into hiding, because your pathetic, whiny _ass_ can't seem to catch a break. Look at you Hummel. You're all messed up, because you can't get your life together, but you want to tell me how to live mine? Those bags under your eyes are proof enough that you can't sleep at night, because you're a miserable, overbearing twink, who probably couldn't even land a role in the chorus of "Cats", because your squeaky voice and your jerky movements would make the production look like some weird porno that Sandy Ryerson has in five different languages, hidden somewhere in the choir room at McKinley. No one, I mean _no one_ objected when your own father suggested that we not invite you, because you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even go back to New York and live by yourself, but I think you should go back. I think you should stay there and-"

"Santana! Please stop. You're making Kurtie cry!" Brittany interrupted.

So he wasn't sweating. He was doing worse that sweat. He was shedding tears, in front of this group of people who he really no longer knew. They were much more intellectual than the perceptive daffy blonde. They knew exactly what was going on. Yet, all they did was stare. Mercedes, Tina. Rachel, Sam. All people who he'd go out of his way for, because he felt their pain. No one would come to his rescue this time. He'd offered these people so much, but all he got whenever his world started crumbling down was a pat on the back and countless "it gets better speeches". He blinked the welling tears away and tried to breathe. He couldn't. Kurt tried standing up straight, to allow his diaphragm to expand, but nothing was working and he was frozen. Everything was a blur, as he dropped to his knees. His eyes stung and he could barely feel his clammy hands. Why couldn't he just speak? His breaths were growing harsher and he knew that he was shaking, because he could faintly hear the voices of the frantic people surrounding him. He was losing his grasp on his surroundings and even time, as he desperately gasped for air. " _Breathe, Kurt. You're okay. You're gonna be safe man, I just need you to breathe, little dude."_ He remembered Finn's slightly panicked voice chime. Suddenly, he could hear them.

" _Fuck! Is he dying? Come on man! Come back to Puck!"_

" _Kurt, don't you dare die on us, before you get the chance to be Peter Pan, in a production that's actually meant for people of your age group!"_

" _Dammit, I didn't say die, Hummel!"_

" _White boy, what the hell is going in on? This is some scary white people movie shit."_

" _Is he having a seizure?"_

" _Look, his breath is slowing down! Fuck, is he about to flatline?"_

" _Lord Tubbington did this when I shared my marijuana with him."_

" _Kurt, please...just blink if you're okay."_

" _And to think I just came for the food-"_

" _ **Good fucking God, is cluelessness a trend with you public school cum buckets? He's having god damn panic attack. Get the hell out of his face**_ _._

At the sound of Sebastian Smythe's growl, his body twitched and he began to blink rapidly, as his body allowed to feel the warmth of the person kneeling next to him. There were fingers sliding down the moist skin of his neck, feeling his pulse line. The hand came up to wave in front of his face three times, prompting his eyeballs to unwillingly follow the motions. This jerked his body back to life, causing him to jolt into a sitting position. The hand was now supporting his back, which immediately began to slump.

"Hey hey, easy!" The voice soothed. He took in a few shuddering breaths and craned his neck to match a face to the rather comforting hand on his back.

That god damned Sebastian.

"You okay, Princess?", he questioned, boring into Kurt's soul with those piercing green eyes.

"I-I'm, um-" He attempted. All he really knew was that he was officially embarrassed and that it was awkwardly silent.

He couldn't do this,

The countertenor stumbled to his feet, only be surrounded by the whole population Lima.

"Woah man, watch it! You were just about to die!" Sam practically cried.

Arms and hands were grabbing him, fixing his now rumpled clothes and brushing him off, while that same hand was wrapped tightly around his bulging bicep, not letting him go _anywhere._ He used his surprise towards Sebastian's nurturing as an excuse for tuning everyone else out. He caught the tall Warbler's eye and searched for a way out.

"Once again, he had a panic attack. He's alive, so why don't you not crowd him. Thanks."

He rushed, gently pushing Kurt out of the room, then out of the house. Kurt turned and gave an uncharacteristically bashful thank you, and dragged his wobbly body to his new Chevy Lumina that he dipped into his savings to buy.

"You're not driving home, you'll really die then. So will someone else. Come on." Sebastian gestured with his hands.

"I'm fine. That's not the first time i've panicked. I always feel fine once I get going." He dismissed, attempting to stand up straight. He could see Blaine looking out Rachel's living room window now.

"Yeah, that's what i told my mom last year after I panicked so bad that I started to suffocate. Know what happened missy?" He asked pointedly.

Kurt shook his head, curious to know the story.

"I was exhausted the day of my Warbler lead renewal audition. (That sounded like something they would do) The dance was too much, even for my shapely body, and i passed out, like Blaine would at a Katy Perry 'Unplugged' concert." He finished, his lips curling at Kurt's strangled giggle.

"Not funny. They gave the lead to Hunter, who tried forcing me to take steroids and ruin my life. I didn't do i." He ranted, trying to keep the smile out of his voice.

Kurt sighed and took slow, short steps over to his only ally at the moment. "Just don't drive crazy. I don't want to panic again." He pleaded tirely

Sebastian opened the passenger door and helped his _patient_ carefully seat himself in his car.

"Kurt!" Came his new least favorite person's voice. He turned and stared long and hard at her, around Sebastian's form. He didn't know what facial expression he had on now, because he was simply too tired to control his emotions. Whatever it was caused the trifling Latina to cry even harder than she had been. Crying was usually his weakness, but for her, he was suddenly immune. He tried waiting for her to speak, but her hard sobbing was causing all of McKinley's allumini and their hamsters to emerge from Rachel's living room to figure out what the hell was going on _now._

"I'm so sorry. I just thought that you'd hurt Britt! I thought you were being mean. I didn't know that something was _wrong_ -"

"Save it, Satan. You knew something was wrong four years ago, when i was being abused and harassed by every football player that you spread your legs for. You didn't do anything then. You were too busy trying to find someone to date, because you pushed Brittany away with the bullshit that comes out of your mouth, but at least something other than sperm was coming out of it, huh?" He could see Sebastian's jaw drop out of the corner of his eye.

"Let me break it down for you. If you don't want me around, i will gladly sache my ass back to New York, where i have a whole school full of people and the members of my own damn band who absolutely adore me. All of you can get the same treatment. He said, finally addressing the not-so-innocent bystanders.

"Don't be like that, Kurt…"

"Oh hello Mr. Schue. I see you're once again deeply involved in the sad lives of people who are half your age. I'll give you a call if i ever believe that you're worth my time." The man was giving him the stern teacher eyes and everyone else was looking at him as if he'd just fallen from Rachel's roof. Speaking of Rachel, she was opening her big mouth now.

"I'm no longer on my own time. I have to go." He said, defeated. He closed the car door as gently as possible, hoping that they leave his father out of this big, dysfunctional feud.

-gLee-

The ride wasn't as awkward as he assumed it would be, considering that he had to explain the reason behind the tension between him and his so-called friends, dating all the way back to his shitty sophomore year. Somehow, Sebastian was the most understanding, active listener he'd ever met. Kurt convinces Sebastian to drop him off at a motel, since he refused to face Burt, knowing that everyone was already spilling every last detail about the incident. One thing led to another, and Sebastian ended up staying in the room too, because Blaine, who he was crashing with on his break from college, was harassing him, telling him that "Kurt was off limits" and a load of other crap. Whatever. It never even came crossed either of the performers minds that they were falling asleep, pressed against each other, face to face, because they were both drained. They both knew deep down that if they woke up next to each other the next morning, and began to gaze into each other's eyes, they could never look back. Things would change, for better or for worse.

Boy did it get better.

 **This is not over! Review, suggest...drown me in compliments, because I am soooo nervous about this. I hope I got Santana right**.


	2. And Just Get Happy

**I'm back! I didn't expect to wake up to 20 notifications the first morning after I posted! Thank you!**

 **mowki** **: Thank you! You were my first reviewer and I appreciate that. There will definitely be much more to come.**

 **Kat:** **Omg Kat is my nickname! I feel you though. I was okay with Santana, until she basically used Kurt's personality against him. Kurtbastian is one of my OTPs, because it was kind of obvious that Sebastian did gain a bit of respect for Kurt and his strength after Michael. Thanks for reviewing!**

 **yngoldfogee:** **Thanks, I'll try to update as often as possible!**

 **Guest#1 :** **Kurt is probably the best, most complex television character ever written. That's why Chris Colfer got a Golden Globe. I plan on having him go back eventually with Sebastian, because why not? Thank you!**

 **Guest#2:** **I do indeed have plans for Kurtbastian as a power couple including Kurt's talent being picked up and Puckleberry as a blooming love. I think they deserve some happiness. Thankssss!**

 **edward lover girl:** **You got it. Thanks!**

 **TweetArya** **: Thank you! There will be much more!**

 **You're all awesome, and i hope this chapter does it for you. Warning for angst and mentions of suicide, self harm, and just an overall depressing chapter.**

 **I do not own Glee or Taco Bell...or their quesaritos. (sadly)**

 **-gLee-**

 _Damn,_ was this a sight to wake up to. He was in bed, with Kurt "Gay Face" Hummel, Blaine's ex obessision. The only thing separating them was the pillow that Kurt was clutching against his chest and mmm his muscles were bulging around it. On his twisted instinct, he reached out and traced the pale man's veins with his thumb, appreciating the smooth, warm flesh. The countertenor shifted at the contact, causing his shirt to ride up to expose the most beautiful, creamy flesh. _Fuck, does he sparkle too?_ He just wanted to suck on it and abuse it with his tongue.

In an attempt to calm his stirring cock, he forced his eyes to meet Kurt's face, only to be greeted by wide glasz eyes and a neat, raised eyebrow. Shit.

"Enjoying the view?" Kurt teased softly.

Sebastian said nothing, but searched the beautiful man's eyes, which were slightly red and still puffy from the amount of crying that he did the previous day, and probably in his sleep. He watched Kurt's face go from pale, to a soft pink. He smirked his usual cocky smirk and pulled himself out of bed. After stretching and yawning, he turned back to Kurt, who was trying hard not to leer at his disheveled appearance. His smirk was back in place.

"You just gonna lie there? We should check out and go get breakfast." He suggested. Kurt was finally pushing his legs over the edge of the bed.

-gLee-

After they both straightened themselves up in the bathroom and made the bed, they checked out and headed to Breadsticks, because Kurt had a strange craving for cheap pasta at ten in the morning. Once they were parked in the parking lot, he looked to Kurt, who was staring straight ahead, obviously not too happy to be going inside of a restaurant where he would be forced to interact with people. Had he always been this weird? He was so hard to read. You knew what he was thinking, but you never knew how he was thinking. He didn't know all of the details revolving around his failed relationship with Blaine, but he could safely assume that his ability to shut out the person sitting right beside him without even _knowing_ it could be a factor. Was this why he'd been quiet at that Latina chick's party? Was he upset or constipated-

"Sebastian?"

Oh, those eyes were widened with confusion and probably concern. How long had he been staring. Did people think it was weird that they were just sitting in a car? Speaking of cars, would Kurt be stable enough to pick his up from his bitch ass so-called friend's house, or would Sebastian have to have it taken hack to his home? He certainly had enough money. Kurt seemed like an okay person for him to throw around money for. He no longer had the heart to ask for anything in return though.

"Um, are you okay?" The countertenor asked, almost bashfully.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're kind of staring at me. In a very...intense manner." He said carefully.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Um I-"

"I don't mean to stare. You're just a very mysterious person." Sebastian defended. (or attempted too, but Kurt snorted, and he didn't know how to feel about it.

"Can you explain?" Kurt tried to understand.

"You don't wanna go in there, do you?"

Whatever reply that Kurt already had in the front of his mind was lost. He always did this. Everyday was a battle for him and his returning social anxiety. It was swinging at him today. He felt like the whole world experienced yesterday's scene. Hell no, he couldn't go in there, and he'd made Sebastian- _Sebastian Smythe_ \- drive him there. It seemed as if today wouldn't be any better than the previous.

"No. I thought I could face the world today, but I kind of find waitresses terrifying right now." He rushed.

Sebastian watched him as his shoulders visibly tensed and he ran a pale hand across his forehead. He should probably take him home.

"It's fine, don't worry your pretty little head. I'm driving you home, because you're obviously not ready to interact with people. We can always stop at a drive-thru." He said in a patient tone. He knew how it felt to feel like you were constantly a burden to someone. He'd lived with Vincent Smythe.

Kurt's facial expression was one of shock and curiosity. Was it because he called him pretty? He was pretty much ogling the guy thirty minutes ago.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. How does Taco Bell sound?"

-gLee-

They slipped into Kurt's old home without much noise and Kurt led Sebastian to the dining room, insisting that he sit down and eat, before driving all the way to Westerville, where he was staying with Blaine. Sebastian ended up buying ten beefy quesaritos and ten chicken as a joke, because little Kurt seemed like the type to eat burritos with a fork and a knife. Goodness he was mistaken.

Those damn burritos didn't stand a chance. Within three minutes, he'd scarfed down four. _Where the hell does it go?_

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps. Kurt gently put down the fifth burrito that he'd just unwrapped and focused his attention on the figure that was approaching the table. Despite the anxious look Kurt had on his face, Sebastian dared himself to turn around in his chair. _Who the hell-_

"Dad." Kurt called softly. "I was going to call, but I know you sleep in late on Saturdays. Are you hung-"

"-What's going on with you, son?" The burly man interrupted. He had his arms folded the same way Kurt folded his at the party. He even had a similar eye color. He just seemed more rugged and...manly than his son. Kurt must've taken after his mother. Was she there too?

"There's nothing going on, Dad. Sebastian and I are just having...brunch? Um, this is Sebastian." Kurt Introduced, giving him a pleading look.

Here goes.

"Good morning, sir.", he began, getting out of his seat and extending his hand for papa bear to shake. "I'm Sebastian. Smythe. Sebastian Smythe." He spoke, uncertainly. He dropped his hand when the man didn't even bother to glance at it. The elder Hummel was giving him the infamous WTF look. This wasn't going well.

"You brought the guy who almost _blinded_ your fiance into your home?" He was giving the look to Kurt now. He watched Kurt throw himself into defense mode. Damn, he was good at it.

"Okay, one; Blaine isn't my fiance. He wasn't even my fiance at the time." He started, sounding awfully irritated.

"It doesn't even matter! he -"

" _Two;_ we've all moved past that. You know it and I bet you're just giving me crap, because I'm with a man other than _Blaine."_

"I'm not really liking this-"

" **Three** ; _this_ is no longer my home." He finished, his face burning red.

Sebastian saw hurt flash through the older man's eyes. There was obviously some tension between the pair that he _probably_ shouldn't be there to witness. Kurt's father simply jerked his head, motioning for Kurt to follow him, and turned on his heel toward the stairs. He glanced back and forth between the two, and heard Kurt sigh and mumble something under his breath that sounded very similar to _man, fuck this._ He decided to do what any normal person caught in a crossfire would do.

He sat quietly and ate his burritos.

-gLee-

Kurt was only being honest. _Again._ It didn't matter how he said it anyway, because someone was always on his case. His father had taken him into his old bedroom and close the door as hard as he could without slamming it. Kurt could tell by the way he was breathing harshly through his nose that he was angry. Kurt sat on his bed, folded his arms, and looked him right in the face, waiting for him to speak. When his dad looked up, he immediately felt guilty.

"Did I do something wrong, kid? I mean, I feel like everything I've tried just isn't working." He didn't sound angry anymore. Just defeated. "You're in New York now, you got that band gig going for you, you got a job with that magazine company that you ordered a million dollars worth of clothing from. I thought you were okay, son. Then, I get a visit from Blaine, who explained to me that my son pretty much told his best friends _not to get married_ then had a _panic attack_ in front of everyone. That doesn't sound okay to me." His tone was going from lost to stern. When Kurt just looked at him, instead of speaking, he kept going.

"Look, I know you're upset, because you lost Blaine. You're a bit jealous, because your friends are happy, but you're going back to that dark place in your head that caused you to do all types of crazy stuff. You haven't had a panic attack since that week." Was he trying to shame him or comfort him?

"Since I attempted suicide." Kurt bluntly corrected.

"Don't do that, Kurt. You know I don't like it when you-"

"-Don't like it when I what, be honest? That's what happened, and you're _still_ tip toeing around me, to this very day. Tell me how disappointed you are dad. Tell me that I'll find someone. Tell me that you haven't been hiding your pain medicine everytime I come over and checking my luggage for razors. _Tell me that you have absolutely no problem with me being here right now._ _**Tell me that you didn't tell my friends that I'm miserable. Lie to me, please, because it's the only thing that will keep me from loading up everything into my car and leaving for good."**_ He was hysterical now. He didn't remember standing up or chunking his lamp across the room. All he remembered was that his father had no faith in him, and how much it _hurt._

"Calm down, Kurt please." His father begged. Carole was in the doorway now, with her face twisted in concern. He always caused a scene when he didn't mean to. He put his hands on either side of his head, and took deep breaths.

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone with it. I can't control the _fucking_ panic attacks now, dad, but I don't think I'm suicidal, not that I have much to lose." He tried to explain, but his father wasn't buying it.

"You don't have much to lose? What about me, huh? What about your step-mother here, who loves you to pieces? What about _Blaine_? What about the two-hundred damn things you got going on In New York?" He was at a loss. This was not the time for an argument with fragile, last remaining son, who had some guy waiting for him downstairs.

"I don't know dad! This isn't about Blaine, or you, or Carole! It's about _me_ losing my friends- my _family_ , because for some reason, the way I've always been and always _will be_ is _**intolerable**_ now. I went back to that freaking lott to wait for them and meet them there like they _promised_ we'd do and nobody showed up. _No one._ I'm alone in this dad. I live _alone_ now, in Bushwick. Am I depressed? Most likely. Am I suicidal? _Maybe._ I don't know, dad, I just-"

"Shh, calm down, kiddo. It's gonna be alright." His dad had his arms around him now. Every negative emotion spiraling through his mind began to dissolve, because these arms, this embrace signaled that he was _safe._ He just allowed himself to cry. There were so many insecurities and fears that drove him up a wall every single day. Each single tear represented one. Burt gently eased his son onto the bed and held him the way he should've held him the day he'd come back from New York with a smile to bright to be real.

"Go tell his friend that he's not okay to come down yet, please?" He asked Carole, who was on the verge of tears for her step son.

He knew that his son would be strongly opposed to talking, after breaking down. His boy had always been slim, but Burt hadn't failed to notice Kurt's newly muscled arms or the way he'd comfortably walk around shirtless, causing Carole to blush madly and raise her eyebrows at Burt in a teasing manner. However, Kurt was a bit skinnier than he was when he'd last visited, only a month ago. How could he just not notice? There were so many questions going through the middle-aged man.

 _What's going on with him and Blaine?_

 _Is my boy depressed again?_

 _Do I need to have him committed?_

 _Is he sleeping at night?_

 _Is he throwing himself around with that Sebastian boy? Why were they together anyway? Had Blaine brought him around? Who was Blaine even dating? Was Kurt sad about Blaine? He sounded as if he couldn't care less about what Blaine said or did now._

Sighing and pulling himself out of his thoughts, he glanced at his son, whose sniffles were dying down. He gently eased Kurt into a lying Position and watched as he squirmed into a comfortable position. _I guess we'll talk later._

Burt rose up, prepared to find his wife, but froze as a cold hand wrapped around his arm.

-gLee-

Carole hadn't fully expected the young man to be patiently seated at the dining room table, eating...burritos? His leg was bouncing-probably a nervous habit- and he was scrolling on his fancy looking phone. Okay.

She stepped toward him cautiously, because Kurt had never brought anyone home outside his circle. Not even that handsome blonde guy she'd saw on his Facebook page. This guy was a different deal though. From what she could see, he was pretty good looking, with sharp, almost pointed features. His hair was a bit lighter than kurt's and his shoulders were a bit broader. He still hadn't noticed her standing there, _analyzing_ him, so she stepped out of the living room and made herself visible.

"Ah, hello. Sebastian, is it?" She asked nervously.

The man had rose from his head in a heartbeat, surprising Carole, as he put on a rather _charming_ smile and reached out his hand. Carole took it, under some type of strange magic, and the two shared a firm handshake. Okay.

"Sebastian Smythe. You must be...Carole?" He spoke.

Even his voice. Okay.

"That's me! Haha". She confirmed in her goofy voice.

"Burt asked me to come down and make sure you were okay." She began to explain, moving to seat herself in a chair across from Sebastian.

He nodded, prompting the pretty woman to go on.

"Well, Kurt's a little...tied up at the moment." She continued. Sebastian noticed a major drop in her mood. She seemed like the sweetest woman alive. Seeing her deflate within five minutes of meeting her was a bit depressing.

"I heard. I tried to pay attention to something else, but he has quite a voice on him." He admitted.

Carole wiggled a bit in her seat and let out a slight snicker at his comment.

"Is he um...okay?" He asked, trying to control the amount of concern his voice held. Carole was giving him the parent-studying-child eyes.

"Oh, honey...I'd have to say no, if I were to give a guess. He's not eating, sleeping, talking, or even shopping much these days, according to the eyes I have watching after him. I thought maybe it was Finn's death." She nearly whispered the last sentence.

 _Damn, this was Finn's mother. Crap._

"I'm very sorry about your son." He attempted to comfort, softly, but the woman _smiled._

"Oh, no, sweetie! I am no longer all sad and mopey about my baby boy. He's still right here." She laughed, putting her hand over her chest, because her heart wasn't there, but she couldn't exactly just put her hand under her breast. Well she could, but it'd be awkward.

"I'm so very grateful to have one still left." She added, meeting his eyes. They were the warmest, chocolate brown orbs he'd ever seen. This woman was something else.

"Kurt." He spoke, sure that Kurt was the other child that she loved as much as her biological, late son.

"Yes, I do love Kurt. I love my little diva so much. I'm glad that he's still living. I just wish he was too." She spilled.

So he had heard correctly through the thin walls.

"He's not acting suicidal." Sebastian said, mostly to himself.

Carole opened her mouth, obviously disbelieving.

"I don't think he's suicidal, Mrs. Hummel. From what I've seen, he might just be kind of lonely. All of his friends seem to be a bit...unreliable." He further explained.

Carole's posture shot up and her eyes narrowed in curiosity. What had she missed?

"What do you mean-"

"Sebastian." A gruff voice called.

Sebastian looked up to see a tired looking Daddy Hummel appearing absolutely _defeated._ Jesus, Kurt was waking conflict.

"Yes?"

"He wants you for some reason." The man growled, disdainfully.

"Burt, be nice. He's a sweetie." Carole reprimanded.

If he could be around this woman often, he was sure his life would be easy.

Burt snorted, and he got out of his seat, to gather his trash and dispose of it. He was feeling slightly bloated and gassy, after eating all of those burritos, but Burt meant business. So did Kurt.

"I'll go up." He said softly, sending both of the older adults a small smile.

He began making his way up the carpeted stairs, preparing himself for some type of emotional encounter.

-gLee-

"You called, Gay face?" He questioned softly, laying himself down on the bed, facing his companion.

Kurt gave a weak chuckle and made eye contact with his newfound friend.

"Why are you doing so much for me?"

It was a question that Sebastian had been trying to avoid. He flirted with this guy's boyfriend, insulted his personality, almost _blinded_ his boyfriend, and spoke the few hurtful words that contributed to Bear Cub's suicide. He was surprised that Kurt could even stand to be in the same room as him.

"I've said and done some messed up things, Missy." He began carefully. Kurt's eyes were puffy and red, but wide with attention.

"I basically made you and your boyfriend into a game, because I hated how _inseparable, you know?_ Who wouldn't want that? You trusted him, you know. I always listened to him gripe about how other men were starting to stare at you and how you were texting some guy who was like madly in love with you." He sounded annoyed.

"Then, he cheated on you, and pretty much told everyone that it should've been expected, because his sweet Kurt was actually living his life. NYADA and Vogue? Not too possible for anyone else, but we have to be mindful of Blaine's insecurities, right? Something just told me to swoop in. I've been where you are and you're actually not half bad." He finished.

Kurt was just staring at him with these wide goo goo eyes. It was kind of nice. No snarky remarks, no shields, just honesty about the growing crush that he had on Lima's very own unforgettable Kurt Hummel.

"Thank you. Really." Kurt choked out.

"Anytime. Now, do you need me to stay? He asked.

"No." Kurt answered sternly. "You've done enough, and you should really get back, before Blaine makes up some type of story about how we're sleeping around at motels and exchanging wedding vows."

He nearly growled. He would've been pissed, if it weren't for the Joking look in sleepy Kurt's eyes.

"I don't give a slinging _shit_ about Blaine, and you shouldn't either. I have nothing to lose, and I definitely don't mind waking up next to you, babe."

He watched, amused as Kurt giggled and turned red.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

" _Sebastian."_

"Just making sure."

Kurt smiled, fond of Sebastian's teasing personality. He could get used to this.

"Goodnight, Sebastian." He said, already dozing off.

After getting comfortable, and moving under the covers with Kurt, he scooted as close as possible and pressed his lips firmly to the countertenor's forehead,

"Night, Kurt."

 **Thanks, for reading! I'm trying to make the blooming romance move as slow and naturally as possible. Burt may seem like an A-hole for a little while, but he's used to Blaine being Kurt's rock. I'll elaborate on the problems discussed in this chapter soon enough.**


	3. You Better Chase

**Hey hey hey! Just think while you've been gettin down and out about the liars and the dirty, dirty cheats of the world, you could've been gettin down to this. sick. beat. -Taylor Swift**

 **It is I, Wingless Swan, back from my writer's block adventures! I received an amazing review and message from a certain user that really inspired me...along with the 2005 movie production of Rent...and Taylor Swift's endless supply of break-up songs that the world may or may not need. I'll address all new reviews next chapter, promise! I'm writing this on my phone and copy-paste ain't cutting it. So there may be a little angst and a few triggers in this chapter. Same as the last. Enjoy? I only enjoy it when you enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer:You know I don't own Glee. Kurt would have a fucking gay harem if I did and he would've married someone better than Blaine or Blaine would've never cheated on Kurt.**

 **-gLee-**

Sebastian found himself waking up to the feeling of constant vibrations in his back pocket, where he'd unknowingly left his phone. Sighing, he slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He felt a slight stirring behind him from a troubled countertenor. Not wanting to leave his side, Sebastian gently moved his long body in a lying position to face Kurt. He took the phone out of his pocket and forced his eyes to focus on the name flashing across his noticeably bright screen.

' _Killer'_

Why the hell had he chosen that nickname anyway? Maybe he was a killer. His eyebrows made him look like he'd kill small animals. He definitely killed Kurt Hummel. The poor porcelain princess was nothing like he'd been when Sebastian first started after Blaine. His head was always held high, and he looked as if he had all the sleep in world and a daily makeover. Now?

Now he had those dark circles forming around his eyes, his skin seemed impossibly paler, his pants were a bit less tight, and he spoke in a very tired tone all the time. His raging fire was what had drawn Sebastian to him. He kept going after Blaine to get a rise out of him. He was a constant source of Sebastian's sick form of entertainment, because what did he have other than sex?

A beautiful countertenor, with a voice like velvet and legs for _days_.

Sebastian's only problem was that he didn't actually _have_ him. He couldn't, because Kurt was an angel and Sebastian Smythe was an opioid-abusing _whore._ He kept coming around, because he was pretty sure Kurt would dump Blaine.

 _Ugh, Blaine._ Sebastian befriended him, because who the hell else would he befriend? In the beginning, it was all about Kurt- and it wasn't necessarily good. Blaine secretly had a problem with nearly everything his boyfriend did or said. He wouldn't have sex with him, he wanted to go to New York, he was obsessed with Lady Gaga, he used hair spray instead of gel, his brother was stupid. Why was he even with him then? At some point, Sebastian had become a dump for all of Blaine's shallow insecurities, Blaine even going as far as to blame the breakup on Kurt. He was kind of a narcissistic douche.

Sebastian turned his screen back on and unlocked it.

 _1 missed call: Killer_

Sighing again, he got out of bed, careful not to wake his little friend, and found his way downstairs. Hitting the call button, he saw a bit of light shining through the windows and realized that it was only 6:21 am. Finally, Blaine picked up.

"What do you need, Blaine?"

" _Are you still with Kurt?"_

"Straight to the point as always, Killer. Are you concerned about him or something?"

" _Just answer the question_."

"I just got out of his bed to call you back, Killer. Does that answer your question?"

" _Are you serious? He slept with you? He wouldn't stoop that low. I don't think you would either. Let me talk to him_."

"No."

" _Excuse me? I don't recall him becoming your boyfriend or your little toy. Give him the phone."_

The gall of this guy.

"I don't think you understand, Blaine."

He had to be the snarky enemy now.

"This guy that you've paid absolutely no attention to, because you're always too busy shaping your eyebrows in someone else's mirror- he has what psychologists call _problems_ and you no longer seem to be one of them. You're a problem to me though. You remind me of that grumpy homeless man that threw a can at my mom when I was ten. Maybe it's the eyebrows? I don't really know, but I've kind of come to the conclusion that you're very unlikable. Tell Bear Cub I said Hi, and leave me and Kurtie alone. See ya."

" _Sebastian wai-_ "

 _Click._

"Well don't you have a way with words?" He heard a sarcastic, gruff voice behind him. He turned around to see Burt "Papa Bear" Hummel standing behind him with his arms folded in that _Kurt Hummel_ way. Crap. He shifted straightened his posture and popped the crick out of his neck.

"Some people don't understand any other way. He's been blowing up Kurt's phone and Kurt just stares at the messages like some type of mental patient. Blaine has a boyfriend. He should stop doing that to Kurt." Sebastian said honestly. He had no time to kiss up to anyone.

"Blaine looks out for him." Burt replied.

"No, Blaine looks out for himself."

"They're in love…"

"Pretty sure Blaine's in love with himself. He's keeping your son at an arm's length, but he never even listens to a word he has to say." He said impatiently.

"How would you know? What are you doing meddling in their relationship, kid?" Burt finally asked the question that he'd been wondering since his son came home with some tall model-looking chump that wasn't Blaine.

Sebastian's eyebrows nearly shot above his hairline. So trying restore the painfully gay Kurt Hummel, who was beginning to waist away to _nothing_ is considered meddling. What was it about Blaine fucking Anderson that had the damn world at his feet?

"I can assure you, sir, I don't meddle. I wouldn't waste my time." He said, cooly.

"Waist your time, huh? I think you're wasting my time, kid. Kurt is _my_ son and his friends are trying to look out for him, so where do you come in. Just explain that, and maybe I won't kick you out of my house."

Sebastian's face twisted the same way it had when Hunter Clarington tried to bribe him with sex, to get him to take the steroids. He opened his mouth, but lucky for his face, he didn't get the chance to say anything crude.

"Sebastian came in almost three years ago, when he donated money to Lady Gaga's _**Born This Way**_ foundation, as an act of kindness after David Karofsky's suicide attempt." Kurt came down the stairs without a single hair out of place, stepping slowly toward the arguing men in the dining room.

"I knew then that he wasn't just a slimy guy who wanted to have sex with my boyfriend, and I may have stalked his social media for a little while, after David's attempt, just to make sure that my other ex enemy didn't try to off himself, because the people who deal with me seem to be the most damaged." He explained with a chuckle.

"So what about _Blaine_? " Burt asked for the hundredth time. He just wasn't understanding it. His son had been hung up on this boy for almost five years now and he just all of a sudden acts as if the guy meant nothing to him.

"Over." Kurt said with a shrug, earning a sigh from his dad and a snort from Sebastian, which caused Burt to send him a dirty look.

"You sure this time?" Sebastian asked snidely.

Kurt finally looked into his eyes long enough for Sebastian to see the confident glow that he hadn't seen in the last two days. No words were said, until Kurt turned to his father.

"I should've ended it things with Blaine after he accused me of cheating on him with Chandler, dad, but everyone knows why I didn't. I'm not kidding this time, okay? I'm not gonna do this to myself anymore." He explained, tears welling in his baby blue eyes.

God, not the tears. Both men had no idea what to say to an emotionally distressed Kurt after he just declared his relationship with his first love over.

Burt simply pulled him into a hug that made Sebastian feel as if this scene was a bit too intimate for him to see.

"Son, I don't care who you date or um, have _relations_ with." Burt said, his ears turning a dark shade of red.

"I just want to know that someone's looking out for you. Blaine was always doing that, no matter how much of a pain in your ass he could be. The guy did love you. I just want that for you all the time, you know?" Burt explained.

Kurt giggled and pulled out of the hug, earning funny looks from Sebastian and his dad.

"Is _that_ why you were so weird about my break-up with Blaine? I can take care of myself, dad." Kurt said disbelievingly. It was the truth. Kurt became extremely aware after he found out that the love of his life bottomed for some guy he met on Facebook.

"I'm not saying you can't, but you pretty much lost your shit on us yesterday!" Burt yelled, finally out of patience.

" _I lost my shit,_ because you pissed me off!" Sebastian was looking back and forth between father and son, wondering if he should use this time to escape.

"Hey now, I don't care what age you are, Kurt. you don't get to talk to me like that!" Burt said, his temper lost.

"I have to fend for myself, dad," Kurt began, ignoring his father's rising anger.

"-Because no one else but Sebastian has _looked out for me_ in about a year now. I don't have Blaine, I barely have Rachel, and it's pretty clear that no one really wants me around anymore. I can't keep doing this. I came home, because you said you wanted me here, so it shouldn't even matter who is or is not with me. You don't support me anymore, and your questions are more centered around _who are you_ than _how are you_. If you want, I can always leave." Kurt finished tiredly.

"That what you wanna do, Kurt?" Burt challenged, folding his arms. There was a pained look in his eyes, as he felt like he was losing his son.

Kurt knew that he was being dramatic, trying to hurt his father, because the man had his heart and was squeezing the oxygen out of it. He knew deep down that burt's location was always 'X' marked on Kurt's mental map as _home_. The damn house and this stupid cow town didn't matter, but pride was something that Kurt wasn't willing to let go of.

"This isn't my home anymore, dad. I'm so sorry, but I dread coming back. There's no more Finn, no more hearing you yell at me to keep the door open when boys are in my room, no more Glee club…" Kurt said defeated.

Burt wore the same expression as his son now. Unfolding his arms, he nodded his head and gave Kurt a small smile.

"Thank you for being honest, can I be honest with you, now?"

"Of course dad. That's all I ask." Kurt answered softly.

Burt watched as Sebastian moved to take a seat at the table, trying, but failing to look less intrusive. He let out a snort and rolled his eyes, before speaking again.

"Do you remember everything you kept from me, Kurt? The mental problems, the bullying, the _abuse_ , do you remember why you said you didn't want to talk to me?" Burt asked, using his lecturing tone.

"Your heart." Kurt answered, wondering where the conversation was going.

"My heart." Burt repeated. "That's you. Everytime you call me in tears, I can feel my heart breaking. I don't care that this isn't your home anymore, buddy. I just want you to know that _my_ home is wherever my son is."

So his daddy felt the same way he did.

I'd drive for days to get to you and I don't want you to think that I'm blowing off your feelings or whatever." Burt said, bringing the tone back to heart-to-heart.

Kurt stood planted to the same spot, nodding vigorously, letting his father know that the words had gotten to him. Pride could wait.

"Okay, dad." He finally answered, pulling his dad into another hug. Burt sighed and held on tighter.

The two held each other for about two minutes, before Sebastian looked up from his phone and caught Burt's eye. Burt let go and started talking _again._ _This guy talks a lot._

"You're gonna get your stuff together, and we're gonna go to New York, okay?" Burt stated, surprising both males.

Finally learning not to question Burt Hummel, Kurt strides over to Sebastian, grabs his arm and drags him upstairs, to retrieve his bags that he never unpacked. Sebastian grabbed Kurt's suitcase, his glittery duffel bag that didn't even surprise him, and his tote bag that was filled with binders and papers, leaving the countertenor with only his messenger bag.

"I could've gotten-"

"-Well I got them." Sebastian said, cutting off his protest.

Kurt sighed and followed him down stairs, past his smirking dad, and out the front door. He unlocked his dad's trunk, reaching for the luggage that Sebastian had sat on the ground, only to be nudged out of the way, when his dad and Sebastian grabbed them all at once and sat them in the trunk.

"I could've-"

"-But we did." His father was cutting him off this time, so he had to push down the growl rising in his chest.

Burt then turned to Sebastian.

"Son, do you need a ride home?" He asked, always the parent.

"I was actually planning on going back in a few days. My bags are at Blaine's apartment though." He explained.

"Go back where? His dad prodded.

"Uh, New york."

Oh _yeah._

"Oh…" Burt started, a bit baffled.

So his son might have this kid in New York with him. This kid who drove him home, fed him, cuddled him, then talked crap to his ex-boyfriend. Maybe he wasn't that bad.

"Let's go get your bags."

 **Aaaaaaand done! I'm sorry this took so long. I had some terrible days, so I could really use a Sebastian at the moment. Preferably female, since I'm lesbian.**

 **Looks like Bas and Kurtie are headed towards more drama, going to get Bassy's bags with papa Burt. Look out for more!**


	4. We Are Rid Of You at Last

**Okay, don't kill me yet. It's been hectic lately. I've been working my ass off to graduate and I have a girlfriend now! (#lesbianpride) I plan on finishing this fanfic, because it simply needs to be finished.**

 **Don't hate me. I have very mixed feelings about Blaine Anderson and the shit that he does. He doesn't come across as manipulative, but no one ever holds him accountable for his actions, and it pisses me off. He's a really good character though, and I feel like he always had good intentions and a good heart. I don't hate him as much as I thought I did. Writing him has changed my feelings.**

 **On a more serious note, fuck Donald Trump.**

 **Enjoy chapter 4!**

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The ride to David Karofsky's apartment was tense.

The fact that Kurt found himself taking his new "friend" to fetch his belongings from his terrible ex- boyfriend and his ex-bully slash _nightmare_ didn't sit too well with him, but Sebastian had admitted to just hanging with the Terrible Two so that he'd have a place to sleep while he was on college break. Of course, this confused Kurt, who was tempted to ask why he didn't just get a hotel.

Burt Hummel had an unfamiliar scowl on his face that made him look ten years older, but Kurt had a feeling the man was just conflicted about Kurt's blunt end to his relationship with the man he'd called his "prince Eric". Sebastian on the other hand seemed to be the master of indifference. If he was irritated, it didn't show. The only thing convincing Kurt that he was just as bothered as they were was the occasional twitch in his right hand.

"See something you like?" He questioned, looking up from his phone as he felt Kurt's eyes on him.

Burt huffed and rolled his eyes as his son turned the rest of his body around in his passenger seat get a better look at Sebastian.

"We're close to the zoo, Bassy. Soon, you'll be reunited with your meerkat friends, so you don't have to be irritable anymore." Kurt drawled in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Nice." Burt commented under his breath.

"A _'Yes Bassy, I do. You're just so gorgeous.'_ would've been a satisfying answer, but I won't elaborate on how old the meerkat joke is, since we've made it to the zoo to slay the bear cub and the chinchilla."

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes.

"We're not _slaying_ anyone. Behave. Just go get your belongings and hurry out." Kurt chimed as Burt pulled into a visitor's parking space.

Sebastian closed his eyes and took a staggered breath to prepare for the confrontation that he knew was coming. Blaine Anderson has become extremely bold with his claim on Kurt's entire existence. An argument was inevitable. Sebastian was so lost in his rising panic that he didn't feel the two pair of eyes on him.

"You okay back there, kid?" Burt asked, confused about Sebastian's twisted up face in his rear view mirror.

"I'm just preparing myself for an earful." He chuckled, bitterly.

Kurt was just about to give him a "just ignore it" speech when Sebastian abruptly swung the door open and damn near threw himself out of the truck. The two Hummel men watched him glide down the first floor hall to childishly bang on Blaine's door with both fists. Burt shot Kurt an amused glance and watched the door swing open as Blaine stepped out and immediately began hounding Sebastian for answers.

Sebastian snapped out a few brutal words, and Blaine seemed to deflate,losing the tension in his shoulders to a slump that Kurt recognized as his 'I just caught myself being irrational' slump. He turned and slid back into the apartment. Now it was Sebastian's turn to slump. With a small glance in Kurt and Burt's direction, he entered the apartment.

-gLee-

"I'm not here to argue with you, Anderson. Just let me get my belongings, and I'll leave." Sebastian pleaded for the fourth time in five minutes. Blaine was blocking the door to the spare room that Sebastian had been sleeping in. His arms (which really weren't all that long) were spread across the wall and his back was covering the door knob.

"Why are you with Kurt?" Blaine questioned once again.

Sebastian forced himself to take deep breaths instead of grabbing blaine by his shoulders and shaking him until his undeveloped brain couldn't take it anymore.

"You know damn well-" _Fuck. Count to ten man._ "Why else would I be with him? Look, I don't have to explain myself to you. Let me get my bags." He sighed.

Blaine dropped his arms and stepped off of the door, closer to Sebastian. He stopped in front of his _friend_ and folded his arms in a very _Blaine-like_ way. There was a flash of emotion in his eyes. It appeared to Sebastian as a cross between exhaustion and pain. The shorter male opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again, not trusting his first set of words.

"Sebastian, I know he's lonely." He spoke, close to a whisper.

He looked sincere enough, but Sebastian was still tempted to remind him that _everyone_ knew Kurt was lonely, and that it actually had nothing to do with Blaine. Instead, he just leaned against the wall and folded his arms, silently telling Blaine to keep talking. Blaine got the memo.

"I don't like this. You're taking advantage of him, because he's feeling desperate. You're hurting him, and he's hurting himself, but all you care about is having a hole to put your-"

Blaine found himself on the ground, in front of Sebastian, holding his nose, which was starting to bleed. He looked up at Sebastian with wide, golden eyes. The guy was fuming. His cheeks were dotted red and his chest was rising and falling very visibly, as he made an attempt to calm himself. Blaine silently watched him unball his fists.

"Don't you _ever_ try to connect his name to my fucked up _sex-addiction_ , Blaine Anderson. It's just fucking wrong on so many levels, one, because you're supposed to be my fucking friend, and I confided in you about that shit, and two, because you're supposed to fucking care about Kurt." Sebastian growled. He shook his head, not believing that he was actually having to give this speech. Blaine just huffed out a breath and cradled his nose.

"Hell yeah, he's _desperate!_ " Sebastian continued. "He went from always having you lurking to having no one! He probably came back to _Lima fucking Ohio_ just for _you!_ Now, you're dating the guy who apparently threw him around like a rag doll for two years and threatened to kill him! I definitely remember you being disgustingly fucking _noble_ , Blaine - so noble that you threw yourself in front of a fucking _slushy_ for him. Did you do it because it was your _job_? If he's still hurting, why don't you jump in front of his pain? Is it because you think you'd be trying to jump in front of _yourself_?" He spat, bitterly, nearly hysterical.

"Wake up, Hobbit." he began, crouching to pull a crying Blaine off of the ground. "He's not lonely or desperate, because of you. Hell, _he_ dumped _you_. Kurt just wasn't ready to be alone again. You're not that fucking special." He finished, making sure Blaine was stable on his feet, then opening the door to the guest room.

"I'm sorry." Blaine sobbed.

Sebastian froze for a moment, before muttering a cold "Whatever", and gathering the rest of his things. He breezed past Blaine, and out the door. He heard a strangled voice call after him, but he had no time to deal with anymore foolishness. He'd created enough to last him for the rest his life. Now, he had to make sure that the light bulbs that illuminated Kurt Hummel's name never went out.

-gLee-

"You were in there for a while, kid. I started to come lookin for ya, but Kurt here convinced me that you can handle yourself. I guess he was right?" Burt questioned. Sebastian caught his knowing eyes in the mirror. He was beginning to wonder if Kurt ever got away with anything, having this man as a father. Sebastian sat back in his seat, and sighed.

"Kurt was right. I can handle myself." He paused, catching Burt's eye again.

"But I can also handle other people." He finished, flexing his now bruised fist for extra measure.

Kurt blushed. He totally wasn't turned on by Sebastian's tone. Burt caught a glimpse of his son's pink cheeks. Interesting.

Kurt's phone lit up and made a dinging noise. Burt watched out of the corner of his eye as Kurt blushed even darker. He could see Sebastian smirking from the rear view mirror.

Burt Hummel was not ready for this.


	5. Cloudy, Gray Times

The transition from their newfound friendship in Ohio, to being becoming attached at the hip in New York took only a few awkward weeks of wondering when to call one another and both parties declaring one too many times that their frequent outings and movie nights were strictly platonic. Kurt found out that Sebastian had been living on his own since he graduated, and he was a sophomore at NYU, with a major in Dance.

He bitterly explained to Kurt that he'd been disowned for not picking a more "practical" career path, but he had a shit load of inheritance money that his father couldn't legally deny him. Kurt was reminded of the very first time he got to really see Sebastian in action at regionals. He performed every two-step and hip swivel like it was his second nature. He had no doubt in his mind that Sebastian Smythe had picked what was most practical for himself, and he didn't hesitate to tell the old Meerkat that looking out for himself was all that mattered.

Sebastian didn't tear up at all. His eyes were just glistening, because he was tired.

The two fell into the routine of really close friends, who kept each other thoroughly entertained and oddly fulfilled. That being said, the first disagreement wasn't much of a surprise, but it did hurt both parties.

-gLee-

"So...you're implying that I haven't been available to you, because I've sleeping with a bunch of guys? Guys...like me?" Sebastian asked, trying desperately to keep his composure.

Kurt, however, was far gone by now. Sebastian hasn't been calling as often, and he'd been bailing on their movie nights. However, the one time he didn't bail, they ran into some asshole with a broflake smirk, who boldly asked Sebastian if Kurt was his "switch up".

"What do you mean guys like you?" Kurt all but growled, tired of the constant circle of mind-fucking that came to arguing with Smythe.

"Sluts". Sebastian spat in reply. He stood a few centimeters taller and looked down on Kurt, the way Kurt had been looking down on him. Metaphorically.

Kurt was ready to defend himself as usual.

"You know damn well that I'm not calling you a-"

"Oh, fuck the words you're using, Kurt. You're slut shaming me, just like you always have, and frankly, I'm not dealing with it anymore." Sebastian's voice boomed.

Kurt's mouth opened and closed awkwardly, as he scrambled to put his thoughts into words. Meanwhile, Sebastian stood straight in Kurt's living room, challenging his friend, who still didn't understand the concept of sex.

And the fact that Sebastian simply had no time to bury his dick in someone with all of the NYU craze going on.

"I'm not saying you're a slut Sebastian...although I did used to have a slut- shaming problem. I just thought that maybe you were...seeing that guy, and that's why you haven't had time for little old me." Kurt explained, defeated.

"Why would I want to sleep with him, Kurt? Why would I want to sleep with anybody right now. When I'm not in class, I'm at rehearsals, when I'm not at rehearsals, I'm sleep, when I'm not sleep, I'm at the gym or with you. Do you not think I'd tell you if I was seeing someone, considering that you and I have pretty much been seeing each other?"

Sebastian was shouting now, hand gestures and all, signalling that he was in a more vulnerable state, because Kurt might've hurt him. The scene still didn't stop Kurt from feeling baffled.

"We're wha-huh? Seeing each other?" Kurt sputtered, genuinely confused and trying to ward off an oncoming headache.

"Forget it, Kurt." Sebastian waved his hand and started toward the door of Kurt's little apartment.

"Wait no, Bas! Please let's just talk-"

Slam.

"Oh, Sebastian." He sighed.

Kurt didn't even move from his spot as he waited for things to stop rattling. He sure did know how to dig em'.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I know it's short, but this is literally what had to happen in this chapter, and I'm already writing the next, so please be patient with me. And I know It seems fast, but Kurt and Bassy aren't gonna start dating right away. Review!


	6. You Are Now A Thing Of the Past

**I'm back! is really messing up on me, but here's chapter 6! It takes a major Hummelberry twist, but it's still definitely Kurtbastian, so don't you worry. PM me any questions, and review!**

 _Don't you dare look out your window,_

 _Darlin' everything's on fire._

 _The war outside your door your door keeps raging on._

 _Hold on to this lullaby_

 _Even when the music's gone._

 _Gone_

 _Just close your eyes the sun is going down_

 _You'll be alright_

 _No one can hurt you now._

 _Come morning light,_

 _You and i'll be safe and sound._

It was obvious to Puck where the music was coming from, but whether or not to intervene was what he couldn't figure out.

 _Ooh ooh_

 _Oh whoah_

 _Oh whoa_

 _Ooh ooh_

Her voice was almost haunting. Every note was pure melancholy, and he was pretty sure he knew why. All reluctance aside, Puck entered the music room, prepared to deal with a self-pitying Rachel Berry. She was perched on a stool with _his_ guitar, strumming her tiny, selfish heart out, but the guitar was the least of his concerns now.

"Good song." He spoke over her oddly monotone singing.

Rachel jumped, almost dropping his guitar and put a tiny hand over her tiny heart.

"Noah Puckerman, adrenaline is the last thing I need to be feeling right now!" She began.

"As you have _clearly_ seen, I'm suffering the loss of my best friend, my _soulmate,_ my true bias, and the only person in New York who could even try to match my talent-"

"I know." He cut her off, successfully putting a stop to her rambling, because she could go on for hours, even in text messages. He grabbed another stool and sat himself in front of his friend, who stared at him knowingly, because they always found themselves in this position. Puck had a history of very subtly telling the self-proclaimed diva, Rachel Berry, how utterly ridiculous she was, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't benefit from it.

"That's some pretty heavy singing you going on."

Rachel just stared at him, wondering if maybe this was her invitation to pour her heart out to Puck, but still, something very close to guilt held her back.

"Can I ask you a question, Rachel?"

His eyes were tired. The bags under them suggested that the past few years had taken a toll on him, as much as they did for her and Kurt, who she was trying so desperately not to think about, in hope of avoiding that bubbling feeling in her gut. She knew that she'd dug herself into this hole a long time ago, so she simply nodded her head, not meeting her tanned friend's brown gaze.

"Why did you let Santana say all that stuff to Kurt?" He questioned, softly. He didn't want to quiz or interrogate her, and he knew that he was being a hypocrite, but Rachel claimed to be Kurt's best friend, so he really expected Rachel to step in while Santana basically tore him down. He heard a faint whisper from her in reply.

"Repeat that?"

"I said I don't know!" She snapped.

She felt Puck moving to reprimand her for slacking in the best friend department, so she beat him to it.

"Please, just _don't._ I know I screwed up big time, and I'm paying for it now." Her voice broke.

"You want to know what the sad thing is? I knew what I was doing every time I hurt him. I love him, but he's just so much _better than me_. I watched him grow, and I was so inspired, Noah, really, but then, I was so resentful toward him, because I couldn't catch up." She explained, winded.

"Rachel-"

"I was so in love with him though, Noah! He grew into a man right before my _very eyes_ , and he gave me butterflies, and made me shiver when he'd slow dance with me to whatever emotional love ballad was playing on the radio, and he always told me that I'm beautiful! He even sang _Safe and Sound_ to me every night after Finn died, because he knew that it would help me fall into a peaceful slumber! I just took advantage of him though, and all he got out of it was cuddles and a desperate _romp._ "

"Wait, _what_?"

Rachel froze in a way that made Puck truly question her sanity. She looked like she was either about to panic, throw up, or both.

"Oh no, I've said way too much." She hissed, clearly angry with herself. She shoved Puck's guitar into his arms and fled the room with her bag in hand.

"Rachel, wait!" He ran after her, both curious and concerned, but she was already in her car by the time he caught up with her.

"Fuck."

-gLee-

" _Kurt? You up?"_

" _Yeah. what's the matter?" He asked, concerned as usual for his grieving friend._

 _She looked so small standing over him at the side of his bed. Her big brown eyes were shining, wet with tears. She was standing nervously with her arms crossed, and Kurt was looking at her with a fond gleam in his eye that she saw clearly, thanks to the moonlight. Realizing that she'd froze, Kurt arose from his bed, the sheets falling off of him to reveal a very naked torso._

 _That was new._

" _Um Rachel?" He queried in a tone deeper than usual. She couldn't help but smile a bit at how disheveled he looked. He was adorable when he was sleepy._

" _I can't sleep." She stated, nervously. She began shifting from left to right. He was making her nervous again with his gaze._

 _Instead of his usual "Want me to sing to you?", he just stared. His eyes were piercing blue, and they penetrated her soul with understanding and something else that she didn't want to misunderstand. She caught a chill whenever his eyes left hers and travelled down her body. She'd never slept with bottoms on after her fling with Brody, so she was standing in front of her newly masculine best friend in nothing but one of his large "Hummel Tires and Lube" t-shirts and a pair of black cotton panties._

" _I'm sorry, I can go put on some-"_

" _Come here."_

 _She obeyed._

 _She let him pull her into an embrace with his arms wrapped firmly around her waist. It made sense that someone as caring as Kurt would radiate heat at night. She pressed further into him, taking advantage of the comfort that this newfound closeness brought her. He chuckled, and the sensation of vibration made her blood rush._

" _You don't have to worry about clothes, sweetie. I'm gay, remember?" He joked, softly. They continued joking and simply catching up on all that they'd missed due to their separate grieving processes, and they eventually ended up lip locked, ultimately leading to the impossible._

 _-"Kurt, oh my- oh fuck please."_

" _I know, I know." He whispered, thrusting softly. She was soft and compliant beneath him, and he needed her. Someone to take care of. He could give her what she needed. He was cheating on Blaine, but Blaine had pulled away from him, and was caught kissing another man, so Kurt didn't let himself feel guilty._

 _Kurt sped up inside of her, grimacing, as he wasn't used to the being inside of a woman. Especially not one as wet as Rachel was. The thought made him thrust harder, and he found himself with a pair of smooth legs wrapped around his waist._

 _The rest was a blur. It was a blur that messed up everything between them._

 _They both knew that Kurt would regret it later. He wasn't into women, even though he sometimes found himself attracted to Rachel, but he also wasn't the type to plow his cock into vulnerable people for his own selfish and odd reasons._

" _I shouldn't have done that to you, Rachel." He'd sobbed as she rubbed his back comfortingly._

 _She knew he'd be torn up about it the next day, but she hadn't expected him to avoid her for a whole week, and then come home and drunkenly pour his heavy heart out to her._

" _Kurt, honey, how much did you have to drink?" She asked, trying to dodge the subject of their little hook-up._

" _Not enough to take advantage of you again, so don't worry." He tried getting up from his place on the couch, but she tugged him back down, startling him._

" _Rachel, I need to-"_

" _I wanted it Kurt!" She exclaimed._

 _For a moment, it looked as if Kurt had sobered up, but he shook his head frantically and, well- blew up. He jerked away from her tight grip, and stood, hovering over her, silencing her protests._

" _This stops now." He he pointed to the floor in gesture, signaling that he knew what he was saying, despite being pissy drunk._

" _We made a huge mistake, Rachel, and I am so sorry that I let it happen. I needed to feel like I was making you happy, like I was taking care of you, but now that the haze is gone, I fail to realize how fucking you could've possibly make me feel that way, and I want you to know that I'm beyond sorry, and I'll never even allow myself to look at you that way again." He finished, out of breath, with shaky hands._

 _Rachel simply nodded, fighting her tears, because she could see that her best friend needed her at the moment, and she couldn't afford to cry while she was getting him into bed. When he nodded and turned away to make his way to the bedroom, she followed his stumbling form, and began removing his most heavy clothing items. He stared blankly at the ceiling until she finally spoke._

" _Please don't do this to yourself ever again." She pleaded softly._

 _Kurt murmured what sounded fairly close to "okay" and quickly fell asleep under Rachel's watch._

 _The following days were filled with bitterness and resentment from both ends of the rope, as Rachel enviously watched Kurt move forward, and Kurt grew tired of the unfriendly competition and Rachel's constant guilt tripping when things didn't go her way. Then came Rachel's dumb flop of a show and his split from Blaine._

 _Even when they put they put everything behind them and began teaching together, they could both feel their relationship deteriorating even further, and by the time the Brittana proposal was happening, they had stopped speaking._

 _Kurt left that evening with Sebastian,prepared to let the Hummelberry ship sink._

 _-gLee-_

Kurt was sitting in the dark, thinking about what to say to Sebastian when his phone interrupted him. He was afraid to look at the caller ID, because he was in no mood for apologies or to apologize to anyone else, but his curiosity got the best of him.

 **Incoming call from: Puck.**

"Huh. _That's_ new."


	7. The Skies Above Are Clear Again

**Looks like I'm back in action! Not only did I have writer's block, but I'm also in college as a music business major. This story is my baby though, and I'm determined to make it a fandom classic. Kurtbastian all the way!**

 **-gLee-**

Kurt watched his phone ring, strongly considering letting Puck go to voicemail, but curiosity (and boredom) got the best of him.

"Hello?"

" _Hey man. We need to talk."_ Came Puckerman's lazy baritone voice. It didn't sound urgent, but it wasn't a familiar tone to Kurt.

"Um sure...about what?" Kurt knew he sounded nervous, but it was a sound that Noah knew well after years of torturing him.

" _Berry."_

Phone calls never had been on his side.

"Look, Noah-"

"Dude, I'm not gonna ask for the smoking hot details or any shit like that. I just want to know what the hell you were thinking when you decided to bang Berry." He hastily explained, taking on the same reprimanding tone of Burt Hummel.

Kurt took a few seconds to think about the many long talks he'd had with himself about the things he did with (or to, *wink wink*) Rachel. He expected the memory to be fuzzy, but he was thrown into the same vivid scene that he experienced that night. Sighing, he formed a response.

"It was a mistake. I was lonely and grieving, and she needed me _somehow-"_ He tried.

" _But what did you need, man? Did you even enjoy the moment?" Puck shamelessly pried._

"I _did_ , Noah. That's the whole point. I took advantage of her." Kurt said, tiredly

"And when this spreads, and everyone has their own negative, irrelevant opinions, I'll still feel like I went too far. I know that everyone is gonna make it about how I needed to 'bone Berry', because we were both desperate, and Blaine was too good for me-"

" _She doesn't feel that way_."

Kurt let out a shaky breath that he didn't even know he'd been holding.

"Come again?" He prompted, realizing that Noah Puckerman knew something that be didn't. He heard the tanned Jew sigh roughly into the speaker.

" _For someone so smart, you're pretty slow man."_ Noah poked. He kept going before Kurt could retaliate.

" _Rachel has no ill feelings toward you involving the whole Bone-A-Berry fiasco."_

Kurt's snort at his new name for the scandal between his somewhat friend pushed him to continue.

" _Yeah, she's bitter, but she loves you, Kurt. Even if she gets jealous or competitive, she still would feel lost without you. It doesn't excuse the little demon, but it reminds you that she's human."_

The line was silent for a long minute, until Kurt spoke up.

"She's toxic, Noah."

Puck sighed, loudly, into the speaker.

" _I know_." He confessed.

"I guess I understand her so well, because I am too."

Kurt, put off by his friend's self-loathing quickly denied the claim.

"Finn Hudson would disagree. We both watched you try to fix everything you've ever broken. You're not a bad person, Noah." He scolded.

" _What about you_?" Puck questioned.

"Um...what about me?"

Puck sighed for the millionth time.

" _I never tried to fix you. I never apologised. I tried to make you feel just as worthless as I felt_." He explained, frustrated with Kurt for not understanding.

"Noah Puckerman, you idiot! The way you looked out for me was more than enough of an apology! What you're doing now is enough to show me that you actually care. Do you know how many people would go out of their way to call me these days? You think about me, and that's really all that matters. I'm sorry if I've ever shown any signs of resentment." Kurt rushed.

The line was silent again before Puck spoke up.

" _I never thought of it that way. I guess actions do speak louder than words, huh?"_

Kurt froze. Actions did speak louder than words.

Sebastian had been practicality courting him, and Kurt accused him of sleeping around, the minute his attention was elsewhere.

"God, I hate myself." Kurt muttered into the line.

" _Huh?"_

"I'll call you later, Puck. I have to go um...act." He stumbled. With that, Kurt grabbed his car keys and made his way to the closest store.

-gLee-

Sebastian knew that he was being stubborn and petty, but Kurt was the kind of person who learned through actions. He had to let Kurt come to him this time. Even if it tore both of them apart.

His resolve was breaking though. He just wanted his kind of boyfriend back. He had no one to playfully tease him or stroke his hair during movies.

Or almost kiss like five times a day.

He even missed the awkwardness. God he needed Kurt back. Fuck his pride.

Sebastian detached himself from his couch and rushed to his room to throw on clothes. While spritzing himself with cologne, he thought about how he'd approach Kurt.

 _Look, you little shit. I fucking want to kiss you and then suck your dick. Or suck your dick and then kiss you. It doesn't matter what fucking order. I want to do both everyday for as long as you'll let me, so stop being a fucking little teasing bitch and let me do it._

Too much. Too aggressive. Too old Sebastian.

 _Kurt, I don't want to fight anymore. Or ever. I just want to be with you. Please stop making it so hard._

Nope. Too submissive.

 _Look, you little bitch. I love you and I fucking need you. In every way. Don't ever push me away again._

Yes. Perfect balance.

Sebastian looked himself over in the mirror and sighed.

Damn he was one handsome motherfucker.

 _I'm coming for you, Kurt Hummel._

He grabbed his keys, and headed toward his door, but froze when soft, but frantic knocking sounded from behind it. It had to be Kurt. Gay Face was the only person he knew who could knock on a door at perfect volume. God he's an angel.

Sighing, he opened the door, deciding to go with the flow. A huge bundle of Kurt Hummel came rushing at him and gently curled around his body, shouting incoherently. Sebastian let him do so until he calmed down. His body was shaking, and he felt warm tears soaking his own shirt.

"Shit. Kurt?" Sebastian tried lifting the man's head.

"Kurt, baby, look at me." Sebastian demanded with maybe a little too much bass in his voice.

Kurt jerked his body away from Sebastian.

"I'm sorry, Bas. I had this whole thing planned out and I was going to apologize and force your favorite cookies down your throat, but I got to your door and it all just hit me so hard. I miss you Bass and I need you! I'm so, so fucking sorry! You're not a slut and I have no right to judge you, so please, _please_ just-"

" _Kurt."_

Sebastian cut the countertenor off when he heard his voice crack and raise nearly an octave. He grabbed his shaking shoulders and let his hands curl around them in a firm grip. Finally, their eyes met and there was a mutual understanding.

"You've always had me, Gay Face." He comforted, ignoring the tears rolling down his own cheeks.

With that, Kurt burst into violent, relieved sobs and Sebastian pulled him close once again.

 _I guess this is what it means for two people to need each other._ He thought with a small smile.

Maybe there was hope. Hope in the form of Kurt Hummel.

 **So let me just add this little foot note letting you know that I don't give a hot figgity fuck about what you think about my hummelberry twist. Hi, I live in the real world, where a lot of my LGBT friends, mostly male, sleep with the opposite sex at SOME point. The reason behind Kurt enjoying it is clear if you're smart enough to read between the lines. He wanted to take care of someone in his own low key twisted way. He obviously regrets it, but of all people in all fandoms, this fandom should know that sexuality is fluid as fuck and a sometimes, hole is just a hole, or it's your friend's hole, and you fucking love it, just because it's attached to them. Everyone in this story is guilty of something too. I still have a soft spot for Blaine as well. When he's groveling at Kurt s feet. Look. It's as simple as this: If you don't like my writing style or my extra spicy twist, don't read. I'll just delete your review. Keep reading!**


	8. Aurthor's Note

So I'm working on the next chapter, and all of a sudden I get a review from some cockroach who has apparently been trolling any writers with Puck in their tags. I really don't care how you feel about the Mark Salling situation. I personally hope he burns in hell, but him and Puck are two completely different people, and I'm not taking him out of my story. So fuck off. Expect another chapter in a few days.


	9. Guys, I'm not playing around

So a user by the name of "Going to enjoy this" is literally harassing me. This is my only fanfic, and I've never had this problem. The person writes twisted entries about Mark Salling and Cory Montieth that kind of scare me, and they've been leaving odd reviews on my story, trying to make readers think that I've been harassing them and literally gas lighting me, and saying that I'm the one being hateful toward characters, when they wrote a graphic entry that's _not even a story_ , about brutally killing Puck off. Yes, I left a review on one of their "stories", simply telling them that we're not just going to exclude Puck, but they retaliated by trolling me. It's probably a 13 year old girl, and people are saying ignore it, but this person seems to have more than one account, and I can't remove their "well worded", fake reviews, because I don't get notified when they've left one. If you see the account, please report them, because I'm not the only one they've been harassing. I really hope you understand how much this could shake up a writer.

Thank you.


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